Comfort the Afflicted, Afflict the Comfortable
by Smackalicious
Summary: After hearing some bad news from Gibbs, Ziva finds herself having to make a tough decision that could affect her relationship with the entire team. McGiva, with Tiva UST. Lots of angst. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Comfort the Afflicted, Afflict the Comfortable  
Pairing: McGee/Ziva and Tony/Ziva UST  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: Het  
Cat: Drama, Angst  
Spoilers: What else but Judgment Day?  
Summary: After hearing some bad news from Gibbs, Ziva finds herself having to make a tough decision that could affect her relationship with the entire team.  
Author's Note: I got a splat for the first scene in this, and had no real idea where I was going to go from there, but now I do. And hey, at least this fic takes place at the beginning of season 6, rather than immediately after Judgment Day.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

"Bert, things just aren't the same around here anymore." Abby rested her chin on her hands and gazed at the stuffed hippo. "Sure, Gibbs is still here, and Ducky and Jimmy, and heck, I even like Agent Lee. But it's not the same without Tony and Timmy and Ziva." She picked him up and squeezed him, eliciting a farting sound.

The doors of her lab suddenly shushed open and someone walked in. "Hey, Abbs, you got the results on those blood tests yet?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "You haven't even given me any blood tests today, Tony . . ." She trailed off as she realized who she was talking to and spun, an expression of pure glee on her face. "Tony! You're back!" She ran at him full force, jumping into his arms and squeezing as hard as she could when she reached him. "Tonytonytonytonytonytonytonytony! Oh, I missed you!" She let him go, Tony expelling a number of deep breaths, then took his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks between her palms, continuing her ramble with kisses all over his face. "Oh, Tony, Gibbs has been so grumpy since you left. I mean, he's always grumpy because he's Gibbs, but I think he really misses you. Well, missed, past tense, since you're back now." She stopped with the kisses, pulling back and shaking Tony's head back and forth as she asked, "You _are_ back, aren't you? Because if you aren't, I might have to hit you for teasing me."

He looked worried. "Uh, right. Well, no need to do that, Abbs. I'm back." He suddenly grinned. "And so are a few other people I'm sure you'd like to see."

Abby's face lit up again. "No way." She bounced in place for a few seconds, then stopped, her expression dark. She punched Tony on the arm.

"Ow!" Tony cried, rubbing the offended area. "What was that for?"

"That," she shook a finger in his face, "was for not telling me Timmy and Ziva were back."

He hovered over her – or attempted to, because Abby in her heels was almost as tall as him. "You never gave me the chance."

She glared at him for a few seconds, then hugged him around the waist, snuggling into him. "I really did miss you, Tony. Well, all of you guys, not just you. I'm really glad you're back. I seriously thought Gibbs was going to have a heart attack or a stroke or something. He _is_ at that age, you know."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be _old_ to have a heart attack or stroke, Abbs."

"You callin' me old, DiNozzo?" Gibbs' voice suddenly sounded behind Tony.

Tony turned, a charming smile on his face. "Boss, hey. Abby was just saying how much you missed me."

Now it was Gibbs' turn to roll his eyes. "Not that much, Tony." Tony closed his eyes in anticipation of the head slap he was sure was coming, but Gibbs gently petted his head instead, saying, "Though I am glad to have you back." Tony beamed, and Gibbs removed his hand, getting back to business. "C'mon, Abbs. Let's get it over with so we can all get back to work." Abby bounced in place, clapping her hands, before following Gibbs and Tony to the elevator.

They shortly arrived at the squad room, alighting to the sight of Ziva perched on the edge of McGee's desk, laughing delightedly at something he had just said. Tony's eyes darkened and Gibbs smirked, his voice low as he spoke.

"Down, boy," he said, as Abby completely ignored the both of them, running towards McGee's desk.

"You're back!" she was yelling, as McGee and Ziva stood to greet her. Abby looked back and forth between them, deciding who to hug first and, unable to choose, coming at both of them with outstretched arms and enveloping them both in her embrace.

Ziva awkwardly patted Abby's back as McGee struggled against her arms, muttering, "Glad to see you again, too, Abby."

Abby released the duo, watching as they dazedly attempted to regain their senses. She gave them expectant looks. "Well? Give me details."

McGee looked confused, then blushed a little, saying, "I don't really think I should be discussing that at work . . ."

Tony snorted in laughter as Ziva attempted to hold back a snicker, saying, "I think she was _referring_ to work, yes, Abby?" Abby grinned in response.

McGee scowled, saying, "Well . . ." before Gibbs cut him off.

"Enough chitchat, people. We got work to do. You can all get reacquainted later, when you're not on the clock." Tony, Ziva and McGee nodded and went back to their desks. Abby gave them all a final wave before turning back to the elevator to return to her lab. Gibbs waited until they were caught up in their work before speaking again. "Ziva, may I have a word with you?" He watched as Tony and McGee popped their curious little heads up and added, "In private, please?"

Ziva attempted to hide her concern. "Of course." She stood, allowing Gibbs to lead her to the elevator, as Tony and McGee watched eagerly.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Tony said, "I wonder what he wanted to talk to her about."

McGee turned back to his computer. "Whatever it is, I'm sure there's a reason he wanted to talk to her alone. It's their business, Tony."

Tony chuckled, standing and walking to McGee's desk. "Oh, aren't you the little Boy Scout, all morally concerned? Like you don't want to know."

McGee looked up from his monitor, an expression of mild annoyance on his face. "Of course I'm curious, Tony. I just have better things to do than poke my nose into other people's business."

Tony snorted. "You're really one to talk, Mr. Gemcity. If I recall correctly, you made plenty of assumptions about my and Ziva's personal lives, and Gibbs, too, in your little book."

McGee gave him a look. "And if _I_ recall correctly, most of those assumptions about you and Ziva turned out to be false."

Tony glared at him. "Yeah, I noticed. And I also noticed how chummy you two were getting before we were reassigned. Then we come back up here to find Ziva laughing at your jokes like you're Robin Williams or something." He quirked an eyebrow at McGee as he asked the question that had been grating on his nerves for months. "Anything you want to tell me, Probie?"

McGee stared at Tony, his mouth set in an angry line. "She's not your wife, Tony. Ziva isn't even your girlfriend." Tony continued to wait for a straight answer, his arms now crossed over his chest. "No, there's nothing going on between me and Ziva. Not that I should have to tell you that, anyway." He sighed. "Look. I don't want to fight with you. I missed everyone here and I'm assuming Ziva did, too."

Tony looked shame-faced. "Sorry, McGee. I guess I just got a little . . ."

"Jealous?" McGee finished. He sighed again. "You really have no reason to be." He suddenly straightened, changing the topic. "I just hope that whatever Gibbs has to tell Ziva, it's nothing bad."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, but his mind was on other things. He'd pretty much always had some sort of feelings for Ziva, but it had never occurred to him that McGee might, too. He looked back at McGee. He had returned to his work.

Tony sighed and looked at the elevator. Maybe Ziva would tell him what Gibbs was telling her . . .

Which was not much they didn't know already, so far.

They had stepped inside, Ziva moving to the back of the car and waiting for Gibbs to shut down the elevator once the doors had closed. She was nervous, there was no doubt about that.

She had just returned to the States from Israel, had effectively announced she would prefer to become an American citizen and work for NCIS, and Gibbs was not the type of person who took people aside for heart-to-hearts. If he wanted to talk to her, something serious had to be going on.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "We are alone now," she stated, a signal for Gibbs to start talking.

He was silent for a moment, then said, "I know you were close to Jen . . ."

Ziva rolled her eyes. This was ridiculous! Gibbs, of all people, was attempting to comfort her? "I am fine, Gibbs," she assured him. "I have grieved and I am fine."

Gibbs nodded slightly, satisfied with that answer. "I believe you. And I know."

Ziva gave him a look of confusion. "Then what did you want to talk to me about, if it was not Jen?"

He sighed. "I've received news you need to hear, and I didn't want to spring it on you with no warning."

Ziva sobered. "That is considerate, but I am an adult. And I have been through a lot of tragedy. I do not need to be coddled."

"I'm not coddling, Ziva." Gibbs' voice was quiet. "I was just letting you know."

Ziva nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. She looked up at him again, taking a deep breath as a cue for him to tell her already.

He closed his eyes and spoke. "Your father is dead, Ziva."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Her first reaction was shock. "What?" she asked.

"He was found in his home . . ." Gibbs started to explain, but Ziva waved his words away.

"That is not what I am concerned about," she said. "Why was I not notified?"

"That's what I'm doing now, Ziva," Gibbs said, the picture of calmness. "It just happened. You were still on your flight back."

Ziva let out a breath, nodding to herself. She remained silent, though, taking everything in.

"I'm assuming you'll want to return to Israel for some time. It's been cleared with the Director . . ." Ziva just stared at him as he spoke, not finding the words she was looking for. "Someone can go with you if you prefer . . ."

"You," Ziva blurted, causing Gibbs to stare at her.

He let out a sigh. "Ziva, I can't just up and leave the country. I have responsibilities here." Ziva continued to give him a pleading look. "At any other time, I would. But Tony and McGee just got back, too. There's too much going on case-wise for me to leave." Ziva let out a tiny sigh, which Gibbs echoed as he said, "You can take one of them."

Ziva narrowed her eyes. "One of them?" she repeated.

"Tony or McGee," Gibbs replied, running a hand through his hair. "I want you to have someone there who knows how to handle a gun."

Ziva scoffed. "I can protect myself, Gibbs."

"I know that, Ziva. But this is going to be a high profile funeral. Your father was the Deputy Director of Mossad. It's going to be a prime target for terrorism."

Ziva fixed him with a steely look. "Yes, and I am sure there will be plenty of security. Besides," she looked down at the floor, "if I go alone and something happens, you will only be losing one member of the team."

Gibbs was quiet for a moment, then lifted Ziva's chin with his finger. "Nothing is going to happen, Ziva. And you're taking one of them. I don't care which one, but you're not going alone."

She quickly blinked back the tears she felt threatening to fall. She didn't want to have to make that decision. She knew that whatever way she decided to go, she would end up hurting someone's feelings. They both cared for her and, to be honest, she cared for them both, too. She didn't normally get so caught up in relationships, but now – especially with what Gibbs had just told her – NCIS was all she had. She didn't want to risk losing them, too. She had gotten too close to them for that to happen. And then . . .

"They have never seen me cry," Ziva said, as if she had just realized it.

"Is that what you're worried about, people seeing you cry?" Gibbs asked incredulously. "I know you don't show a lot of emotion, but you're human, Ziva. No one's going to think any less of you crying at your own father's funeral."

She shook her head. "No, there is more to it than that." Her voice dropped. "There always is."

Gibbs frowned. He hated seeing his team like this. They were all so close, he wasn't surprised something like this would happen. But that didn't mean he liked it.

He placed a hand on her back and gave her a comforting pat. "Whoever you don't choose will understand." She gave him an unsure glance and he nodded. "I'll make sure of it. Now come on, you have to get back to Israel. And you have a decision to make." He removed his hand from her back, flipping the emergency switch back on.

The elevator opened and Ziva looked out on the squad room before exiting the car. Tony and McGee had both noticed the ding and were watching Ziva walk back to her desk. She avoided their eyes; she would have to deal with them soon enough.

The two men waited for her to say something, looking from each other to Ziva, and when she didn't, Tony spoke. "Everything okay, Ziva?"

"Well, Tony, if you really must know," Ziva said, clicking through some documents on her computer and then lifting her gaze to meet his over the monitor, "no. Everything is not okay."

Tony and McGee exchanged worried looks. McGee spoke this time. "Can we do anything to help?"

"One of you can," she responded. The men looked confused. "I . . . It is complicated."

"I thought you didn't like that word," Tony mumbled, remembering a conversation they had once had.

"I do not believe I fully understood what it could mean," Ziva said, her voice quiet.

"Ziva?" McGee tried again. She met his gaze. He found himself losing his train of thought as his eyes met hers. There was definitely something going on, that much was obvious. He shook his head. "Sorry. Forgot what I was going to say."

"That is alright, McGee," Ziva assured him. She then took a deep breath, preparing to let them know just what Gibbs had told her. "I have to go back to Israel."

"What?" McGee spluttered. "But you just got back!"

"Let the woman speak, Probie," Tony said, his voice betraying his emotions.

"It is nothing work-related," Ziva said. She looked both of them square in the eye and spoke just the way Gibbs had to her. "My father is dead."

McGee let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Ziva."

She nodded, accepting the condolences. "Gibbs does not want me to go alone, and he cannot go. Therefore . . ."

"It's me or McGee," Tony finished.

Ziva nodded. This was the part she was dreading. "Yes. I would take you both if I could . . ."

"It's okay, Ziva," McGee said. "It would be pointless for both of us to go." He paused. "I mean . . ."

Ziva quirked a smile. "I know what you meant, Tim." Tony frowned slightly at her use of his first name. She let out a breath. "This is not a matter of me liking one of you more than the other, so do not go tying your underwear in knots over this."

Tony and McGee both gave her strange looks. "The expression is knickers in a twist," Tony corrected.

"Or panties in a bunch," McGee added, then thought about his words and said, "though we're guys so that might be a little . . . weird."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I do not care what the correct expression is! I want you to know that I am not picking favorites. I am making what I feel is the most logical decision."

"Taking lessons from McKlingon over here?" Tony asked.

Ziva and McGee both glared at him. "I think it's smart," McGee said.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Of course you do. You think via your hard drive."

McGee steeled his jaw. "Maybe that's because every time I make an emotional decision, it always ends badly for me."

Ziva rubbed her temples as she listened to their argument. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. "Would you two stop fighting!" she cried out, effectively silencing them.

Both men looked sheepish as they realized how selfish they were being. "Sorry, Ziva," they both said nearly in unison.

She closed her eyes. "Would you care to know who is accompanying me?" She opened her eyes again, watching them nod.

She let out a deep breath and pointed her finger. "You."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Me?" Tony said incredulously.

Ziva nodded somberly, almost regretting her decision. But it was too late to turn back now. She looked over to McGee. He looked crushed. "I'm sorry, Tim," she nearly whispered.

He nodded. "No. I, um, I understand. It makes more sense for Tony to go. Logically."

Tony had been preening in his luck at being the one Ziva had chosen, but sobered once he heard McGee speak. McGee always seemed to get the short end of the stick. And he . . . well, Tony just didn't.

"We should go." Ziva's voice brought Tony back to attention. He simply nodded his agreement. Ziva stood, avoiding McGee's eyes as she shuffled to the elevator, Tony tailing her.

McGee watched the pair leave with sad eyes before turning back to his computer. He was at a loss as to why she had picked Tony instead of him to go with her. They had gotten close over the past few months, as Tony had said, and it seemed to him that Ziva was tired of Tony's games. Not to mention, if he were Ziva, he would much rather have someone like himself around during an emotional time.

"You'll forgive her."

McGee looked up in confusion at Gibbs' voice. "What?"

Gibbs was sitting at his desk, hands folded neatly in front of him, watching McGee. "Ziva. You'll forgive her."

McGee scoffed lightly. "Of course I will. I'm not that petulant."

"That's why she took Tony, Tim," Gibbs said.

"You think Tony wouldn't have forgiven her if she had chosen me?" McGee sounded incredulous. "No . . . I mean, he's self-absorbed, sure, but he's not that cold-hearted."

"No, but it would have taken him a lot longer to not be hurt."

McGee gave Gibbs a pained look. "But I _am_ hurt, Boss. I thought Ziva and I were . . . I just thought we were closer than that." He sighed and lowered his voice. "I guess I'm just not as impressive as Tony."

Now Gibbs was wearing the pained look. "What makes you say that, Tim?" he asked calmly.

McGee stared at his desk as he responded. "Tony's handsome, suave, charming . . . He's confident, an ex-cop _and_ has been to the Middle East."

"So what, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"I'm not any of those things," McGee responded, looking up at Gibbs.

"And you think that's what Ziva's looking for in a man," Gibbs said.

"Well . . ." McGee shrugged. "What else would she be looking for?"

"Listen. I can't pretend to know all the mysteries of women, Ziva especially, but you said it yourself. Something drew her to you, and it's because you're _not_ like Tony."

McGee still looked frustrated. "Then why have him go with her to her father's funeral, of all places? They do nothing but fight! She needs someone . . ." his voice dipped and he suddenly turned bashful, "someone who'll be there for her."

Gibbs took McGee's words in for a few moments, then said, "Maybe she doesn't want to think about it."

McGee looked up in confusion. "And what does Tony have to do with forgetting about her father's death?"

Gibbs remained patient in his explanation. "Maybe she's using Tony as a distraction, an excuse to not show how much it's bothering her."

McGee looked concerned. "_Is_ it bothering her? I mean, of course it is, it's her father, but . . ." He looked pleadingly at Gibbs. "Do you think she at least knows?"

"That you care about her?" McGee didn't respond, just looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, Tim, I think that's fairly obvious. You're her friend, aren't you?" McGee nodded slowly. "Alright then. Problem solved." Gibbs turned back to his work.

"But Boss . . ." McGee plead again.

Gibbs looked up again. "You're not going to help her by worrying, McGee. If she needs you, she knows how to reach you. Now get back to work."

McGee reluctantly turned back to his computer. Gibbs was right. Ziva wasn't the type of person who dealt with her emotions head-on. Having him there would probably make things more difficult for her. Still, it didn't stop him from wishing he would be the one there to comfort her when she needed it.

He stared at the phone on his desk. She knew how to reach him . . .

"I cannot get through!"

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Is there an alternate number you could try? Some private extension?"

"And why would I know a private extension for the Director of Mossad?" Ziva asked angrily. "Just because I am a Mossad officer does not mean I am privy to the Director's private phone lines."

Tony sighed and attempted patience. "I just thought that . . ."

"You thought that because my father was the Deputy Director, I would have such access," Ziva finished. "I hate to break your bubble, but we have tighter security than that." She shoved the cell phone in her pocket and turned back to her half-packed suitcase, folding a shirt sharply before throwing it in.

Tony stood there for a moment, thinking of possible things to say and, finding nothing that wouldn't get himself killed or at least seriously maimed, said, "Burst."

Ziva turned to him, a pair of socks in her hand. "What?"

He shrugged. "You said _break_ your bubble. It's actually . . ." Ziva began to descend upon him and he swallowed. Hard. "Burst."

She was now standing toe-to-toe with him, staring him in the eye. Tony returned the gaze, not willing to back down to whatever she was threatening. After a long moment, Ziva broke the focus, looking down at his chest. She gave it an absent-minded pat, nodding her head.

"There are some things about Americans I don't think I will ever understand," she muttered, walking back to her suitcase.

Tony nodded, still recovering from the moment. He wasn't even sure that it classified as a moment, but whatever it was, it showed that, yes, even big, bad Mossad officers have emotions.

"Tony?"

Tony looked over to Ziva, who had her closed suitcase in hand. "Yeah?"

"I asked if you were ready to go," Ziva said. She looked confident and ready to conquer the world, but Tony knew it was an act she put on to avoid confronting her emotions. He should know. He did the same thing.

He swallowed again and nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

Ziva led the way out, Tony following closely behind, not making any sort of physical contact. They reached the door and she opened it, then turned, flipping off the light, before stepping out and waiting for Tony to join her. She locked the door.

It was time to see her father.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Ziva pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as they entered the airport. Tony wandered in behind her, gazing around.

"I doubt you are going to find any buxom blondes in Israel, Tony," Ziva said, smirking.

Tony remained straight-faced. "I wasn't babe-watching, Ziva."

"That's a first," she mumbled.

Tony stopped walking. Ziva was a few yards ahead of him before she noticed and turned around, raising an eyebrow.

"Why am I here, Ziva?" Tony asked seriously.

Ziva set her mouth in a line. "Do I need to remind you?"

He waved away her question. "No, no, I know why I'm _here_, but why me? You clearly don't want me here."

Ziva spun around and began walking again. "In case you have failed to realize it, not everything is about you."

Tony jogged to catch up to her, but remained behind her, talking to her back. "No, I know this isn't about me. I think it's about you and your inability to confront your feelings."

Ziva spun around again, almost knocking Tony over in the process. "You are really one to talk about confronting feelings, you, who fell in love with your undercover assignment!"

That was all it took for Tony to let it out. "Well, at least I'm not trying to kid two men into thinking I have feelings for both of them!" Ziva looked shocked and remained speechless as Tony continued. "Yeah, I'm thinking if we ever did end up sleeping together, I'd have to listen carefully because it might just be McGee's name you'd be calling out."

He stared at her with blazing eyes, and all she wanted to do was slap him, but she didn't even have the energy to do that. She turned on her heel and continued on her way, determined not to let him see her cry. She had a feeling something like this would happen, yet she still insisted on pushing Tony to the point where his words would turn hurtful.

She could hear him behind her, having realized his faux pas and wanting to apologize, but she kept walking. She didn't want to hear it.

"Ziva, I'm sorry," Tony was saying. "I'm supposed to be here for you and I'm being an ass." Ziva continued to ignore him. "Okay, so you're not listening to me. Fine. I deserve that. I just want to know your intentions."

Ziva stopped walking and Tony nearly ran into her before halting himself. She slowly turned to face him, raising her eyes to meet his. "I do not know what I want, Tony. All I know is I do not want to hurt anyone or lose anyone because of a misunderstanding. I care about both of you." She finished, lowering her eyes.

"I know you do, Ziva," Tony said softly. "But you're going to have to make a choice if you ever want to be happy."

Ziva looked back up at him, momentarily surprised by how . . . human he was being. "I . . . I'm not ready to make that decision. I was hoping that coming here would," she shrugged, "help me get my mind off it."

Tony gave her a thoughtful look. "So you really don't know who you want to be with?"

She let out a huff, slightly frustrated. "My father has just died and all you care about is my love life?"

"Of course not, Ziva," Tony replied automatically. "I just want you to be happy." He paused. "I'm sure McGee feels the same way."

Ziva's face fell at the mention of McGee's name. She felt truly awful about the way things had had to happen, about not bringing him with her to Israel. But she knew in her heart that while Tony's strengths laid on his outside, McGee's were what people couldn't see by looking at him. He had the better emotional capacity to handle being left behind . . . even if that was far from what she was doing.

"I need to make a phone call," Ziva murmured, and Tony nodded to himself, knowing who she was calling and probably even what they would talk about. Ziva mimicked Tony's nod. "I will wait until we arrive at the hotel. I need some . . . privacy."

Tony sighed. "Yeah, yeah. Of course."

They left the airport . . .

. . . just as McGee was stepping into his apartment. He yawned and headed for the kitchen, eager to eat some dinner and maybe get some writing done.

If he could stop thinking about Ziva, that was.

He wanted to know how she was holding up, if Tony was driving her crazy or if he had changed and was becoming everything she wanted.

Just as he was contemplating the nature of Tony's character, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered. "McGee." Silence on the other end. He waited . . . and waited, before taking a chance and asking, "Ziva?"

There was a huff on the other end and he smiled. "How did you know it was me?"

"Who else would be calling me from Israel?" he asked, and he could almost hear her scoff.

"Your phone does not say that."

He shrugged, even though he knew Ziva couldn't see it. "It _is_ an iPhone. They can do pretty much anything." There was a warm silence, then he asked, "How are you?"

She paused, letting out a deep breath. "That is why I called, Tim."

McGee nodded to himself. "I figured as much. Is Tony around?"

She hesitated, then said, "Yes, but it is you I wanted to speak with."

McGee felt a flutter in his stomach upon hearing her words. Tony was right there with her, but she wanted to talk to _him_, McGee, the big Elf Lord computer geek.

"I am regretting the decision I have made in bringing Tony with me," Ziva confided. "He has been completely insufferable."

"Well, it's too late for me to switch spots with him," McGee said, then cringed at his words. "Sorry, that sounded a lot worse than I imagined it would."

"No, no, I see what you are saying," Ziva said.

"So . . . do you need me to do something for you?" McGee asked. "I mean, is there something I can do?"

There was a lull in the conversation, and McGee started to repeat the question when Ziva spoke. "What I want from you, you cannot give over the phone."

McGee felt his heart jolt. "I'll send good thoughts your way, how about that?" he said after a moment, kicking himself for not having the courage to tell her what she meant to him, how he wanted to be there with her right now, soothing her fears and comforting her pain. "Don't let . . ." he started, then thought better of it and tried again. "I hope Tony takes good care of you, Ziva."

He heard a muffled noise on the other end and his heart nearly broke in two. Was Ziva crying? "I will try," she said. Her voice _sounded_ still, at least. But Ziva was good at masking her emotions. "I have some legal things to sort through and the service is tomorrow. I shall be returning home shortly thereafter."

_Home_. She said it like she belonged in America. And she did. Still . . . "But Ziva, don't you want to . . ."

"No." Her voice was firm. "I need this to be over. None of this was supposed to happen, not this way. I want to get back to my life, get back to how I want things to be."

"Well, I want you back here, too," McGee said. "Jethro misses you. Gibbs might, too."

A choking laugh. At least he got that. "Tell Jethro I will be back soon. I miss our walks." There was another comfortable silence, then Ziva said, "I must go. I just wanted to call you and let you know how I was doing."

"I'm glad you did, Ziva," McGee replied honestly. "I will see you again once you get back to the States."

"Yes, I will have to make dinner for you and we can . . . talk. Just us." McGee took a deep breath. "Goodbye, Tim."

He let out the breath. "Goodbye, Ziva."

The call was disconnected and McGee set his phone down on his writing desk, sitting down and burying his head in his hands . . .

. . . as Ziva simply stared at the phone on the hotel room's nightstand. A tear trickled down her face.

The door opened and Tony entered. "Hey, you done with your phone call?" he asked. She didn't make any move to enter, so he walked closer to her. "Ziva?"

He finally reached her, noticing her current state, and let out a breath. "Hey, you alright? Come here." He held his arms open and she didn't move; of course not – she wasn't a hugger. "I don't bite, Ziva," he attempted. She looked up at him and he saw the tears, the look in her eyes.

He didn't have to say anything else. He _couldn't_ say anything else. He held his arms open again and she rose from the bed hesitantly, walking into his embrace. He closed his arms around her back and she allowed her hands to travel up to his shoulders as she laid her head on his chest, just wanting it all to be over.

"Shh, it's okay," Tony had finally found his voice and was cooing. His hands were rubbing calming lines down her back. "Let it all out. Just let it out."

The thoughts from the past few days ravaged their way through Ziva's brain at Tony's words, and the tears grew heavier and she began to sob. The tears were as much for her father as they were for her own heart, for her confusion and loss and aching. She loved her father, she loved Tony, she loved Tim. She couldn't have them all; she'd already lost one and the one she knew loved her selflessly was thousands of miles away.

Her voice seeped into Tony's shirt. "I miss him."

He sighed. "I know you do."

And somehow, he knew she wasn't just talking about her father.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Spoilers for Kill Ari II and Dead Man Walking here. Also a reference to Ziva possibly being bi-sexual, but just a passing reference at that._

**

* * *

Chapter Five**

A knock at McGee's door forced him to look up. There was only one person he really wanted to see right now, and she was in a different country.

The knocking persisted, followed by a voice. "Tim, I know you're home. Please answer."

He sighed and stood, trudging to the door and opening it. "What do you want, Abby?"

She gave him a concerned look. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, his shoulders dropping. "I'm trying. But . . . not really."

"Oh, Timmy," Abby murmured, gently hugging him. She mumbled into his hair. "Ziva will be okay. Tony will take good care of her." He let out a sigh and she backed up, looking at his face. "That's probably not what you wanted to hear, is it?"

He let out a sad laugh. "That's what I just told Ziva."

Abby looked surprised. "You called her?"

He shook his head. "She called me. She said she wishes she'd brought me instead."

Abby let out a breath. "Wow. I guess Tony isn't quite the ladies man I thought he was."

McGee didn't respond to her comment, just wandered over to his writing desk, sitting and resuming the stance he held before Abby had gotten there. "I never thought I'd feel so helpless, Abby. I told her I'd send good thoughts her way. And as cowardly as it sounds, that's all I can do right now. I hate it."

Abby kneeled down in front of him. "I know you do. But you can't let Ziva know that. If she sees that you can't handle it . . ."

"Abby, this is Ziva," McGee interrupted her. "She doesn't need someone to be strong so she doesn't fall apart. If anything, she needs to see how much I care about her."

Abby shifted, resting her weight on one arm. "And how much is that?" she asked softly, though she pretty much knew the answer already.

He shook his head, looking at the floor between them. "I want her to be happy, Abby. If that means her being with Tony . . ."

"What?" Abby's shocked question made McGee look up. "You can't just give up and assume she wants to be with Tony! Why would you think that, anyway? She told you she wanted you there with her. That has to mean something." She leaned in close to him. "All you have to do now is be there for her. And I know you, Timmy. You couldn't not be there if you tried."

McGee smiled, and just then, Jethro came bounding out of McGee's bedroom, sniffing Abby impatiently.

Abby giggled as he nudged her cheek with his wet nose. "Hiya, Jethro!" she said. He gave her a final sniff before plopping down on the floor, his head resting between his paws. Abby gave McGee a look. "What, you manage to turn the dog against me?"

McGee smirked. "No, Abby. I think he just misses Ziva." Abby gave him a surprised look, petting Jethro's head. "We, uh, the three of us," he started to blush, "used to go for walks together, on the weekends and sometimes after work."

Abby had an amazed look on her face. "Oh, Timmy, that is so cute!" Instead of hugging him, though, she gave Jethro a squeeze, which brought the dog back to life, wagging his tail and panting happily. Abby gave McGee a wide smile.

He smiled back. "Thanks for coming over, Abby. You always seem to know when I need someone."

Abby softened her smile a little, but her eyes still held a twinkle. "Anytime, Tim. Now, you need something to keep you in a good mood." She bit her lip. "Would you mind if I went on a walk with you and Jethro? If that's completely a you and Ziva thing, I understand, though."

McGee grinned. "No, I think Ziva would want us all to go for a walk. And I think Jethro would have no objections to that, either."

Abby laughed. "Good. I'd hate to be shot down by Mr. Gibbs here." McGee gave her an incredulous look. "Okay, so I forgot to mention I gave him a full name . . ."

McGee shook his head. Abby was crazy, but she was a good friend and an important part of his life. There was no way he'd ever give up their friendship. Just like he wouldn't give up on Ziva. Once she got back, he wasn't wasting any time in letting her know just how much she meant to him.

He stood up from his desk. "Come on, Abbs. The world is waiting. Or Silver Spring is, at least."

Abby grinned as he grabbed Jethro's leash from a post by the door and hooked it to his collar, leading them out the door . . .

Meanwhile, Tony and Ziva walked out of an office within Mossad's Headquarters. Ziva had just discovered that she was to inherit her father's possessions, which was a bit of a surprise to her. They'd never had the best relationship in the world. Regardless, she was now in possession of quite a lot of money. She really could care less about the money, however.

After all, McGee had enough for the both of them.

She closed her eyes and forced the thought from her head. She was supposed to be here for her father's funeral, yet she was spending all her time thinking about what she would say to McGee when she got back.

_They_. When _they_ got back. She was still with Tony. And she was questioning her decision in bringing him here more and more. How was he going to feel when they got back home and she practically ran to McGee's apartment? It would look like she didn't care about him at all, which wasn't true.

She had simply realized that she would rather be with McGee.

She looked over at Tony as they got into their rental car and prepared to drive to her father's estate. He had a completely unreadable expression on his face, which probably meant he had figured out her feelings and was hurt, but didn't want to say anything because they were here for completely different reasons than exploring Ziva's love life.

But then again, Ziva couldn't get the subject off her mind, either, so they may as well at least get it out of the way.

Ziva let out a sigh. "Fine," she said.

Tony gave her a confused look. "Excuse me?"

She rolled her neck. "You seem to have figured me out. We may as well talk about it."

Tony let out a small chuckle. "I don't know what you're talking about, Ziva . . ."

She slammed on the brakes as they reached an intersection, nearly causing Tony to fly out the windshield. "My _feelings_, as you put it. You seem to know what they are."

"I know what they aren't," Tony said quietly, looking out the window at the cityscape of Tel Aviv.

Ziva frowned to herself. "It was not my intention to hurt you, Tony," Ziva replied, just as quietly.

Tony nodded. "I know. Just like I never meant to hurt you." Ziva gave him a shocked look, surprised to hear him admit such a thing. As she gawked, Tony grabbed the wheel and gave it a yank, preventing them from drifting into oncoming traffic. Ziva turned her attention back to driving, as Tony continued. "I never wanted you to get hurt, and that's why I said the things I did. I knew the two of us together would be a disaster waiting to happen." He laughed sadly. "And you wonder why my relationships don't last very long."

Ziva was quiet for a moment as she turned down a side street. When she did speak, she said, "I do not know if it makes you feel any better, but this was a fairly recent decision."

Tony snorted. "I would hope so. You told me this morning you didn't know what you wanted." She didn't say anything, so he pressed on. "Or was that a lie to make me feel better?"

Ziva shook her head. "No, of course not . . . I," she shrugged, "I thought I had figured everything out, but I wanted to make sure."

Tony nodded, numb. "And I confirmed it."

Ziva sighed. "I'm sorry, Tony . . ."

Tony shook his head, still staring blankly out the window. "No, no, don't be. I clearly have issues with honesty. It doesn't surprise me that you'd rather be with someone who tells you know he feels." His tone was becoming less hurt and more angry. "I'm assuming McGee's at least told you that much. Or you've told him the same thing." Ziva didn't respond, so Tony nodded again. "Okay, so it's just me. Great."

Ziva pulled the car to a stop in front of her father's house and Tony automatically got out, not even waiting for her to turn off the car. Ziva let out a sigh and turned off the ignition, stepping out of the car and gazing at the house she'd grown up in. It was time to put Tony and McGee aside and remember her father.

She took the set of keys the Director had given her from her pocket, walking to the front door. It was somewhat disconcerting to think of how she didn't even know which key was the correct one for her childhood home, but she pushed that thought away. She had grown up in Israel, but her life and the people she loved were in America.

McGee entered her mind again and she held back the tears that pricked at the backs of her eyes. She wasn't this emotional – ever. But suddenly, she found herself on the verge of crying almost constantly. It was as though she was releasing all those years of held-in emotions, all the times her father told her to be strong and not let your opponents see your weaknesses. He was gone, so she could finally cry.

For Tali, her little sister who died far too young and innocent at the hands of terrorists. For Ari, who died by her own hand, as she attempted to keep evil from overtaking good. For Roy, the man she had found too late to love, but did so, anyway, letting her heart make the decisions for once.

And for him, her father, the man who'd raised her by himself, who had taught her how to survive, who had kept her alive. The man she had fought with, who'd been too busy for her dance recitals, who had not even cried so much as one tear when she'd told him America was her home now, she wouldn't come back if she could help it.

Ziva wandered throughout the house, caressing the expensive furniture her father loved so much, letting the memories of the home invade her senses as she climbed the stairs to where her bedroom used to be. As she pushed the door open, tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

It was exactly the way she had left it.

The sight was overwhelming, and the tears blurred her vision as she looked around at the reminders of her childhood: a tiny pink tutu hanging in front of the closet, hair ribbons scattered across the dresser, the huge four-poster bed where, as a teenager, she'd snuck boys – and even the occasional girl – over to have sex, all the while whispering to keep from being discovered by her father.

She moved across the wood floor, smiling a smile that was both reminiscent and bittersweet. It was wonderful to be able to remember her childhood this way, but she wasn't sure if her father had left things intentionally or just didn't have time to have the room remodeled and her belongings removed.

She shook her head free of the thought. It did not matter. Her father was gone and she could live her life to her choosing now.

As she passed the window, she happened to see Tony outside, pacing back and forth, waiting for her. Her heart dropped as her thoughts returned to their earlier conversation and the emotions it had produced.

Ziva sat on her bed, clutching the now yellow pillow to her chest. She let out a sigh.

Would things ever be the same?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

As McGee was preparing for work the next day, Ziva and Tony had just returned to their hotel after a tense, silent ride. Tony announced his intentions on going to the bar downstairs, so Ziva took the opportunity to make another phone call. She knew McGee would be getting ready to go in to work, but that didn't matter to her. She _needed_ to talk to him. If she didn't, she might just kill Tony before the trip ended.

He picked up almost as soon as the phone rang. "McGee."

"It's me," Ziva said softly.

"Ziva, hey." His voice was soft. "Something wrong? You sound upset."

Ziva almost laughed at how well he seemed to be able to read her. "Tony is angry with me. I told him I had made my decision and . . ."

"He couldn't accept that it wasn't him." McGee didn't even sound surprised.

"I did not want things to happen this way," she said. "I wanted to talk about it with both of you, separately, like adults. I did not want to have to make a decision like this."

McGee flipped the chair at his writing desk around and sat down. He knew he was going to end up being late for work, but he couldn't leave Ziva hanging. Gibbs would understand. "No one said you had to make your decision now. There's plenty of time for that. What made you decide?"

"I just knew," Ziva whispered. "I want to be with you."

McGee's heart jumped into his throat and he almost couldn't respond. When he did, it was in a whisper that matched Ziva's. "I want to be with you, too, Ziva."

Ziva wiped a tear from her face. "Do you think Tony will ever forgive me, forgive us?"

"Of course he will, Ziva," McGee assured her, his tone calming. "Tony just . . . he takes things personally. And I think right now, he probably thinks we're doing this to hurt him. He'll be fine once he sees that we're not, that we care about each other and made this decision because, well," if Ziva could have seen McGee's face, she would have found him blushing like crazy, "we can't not be with each other."

Ziva smiled through her tears. "I cannot wait until I am back home and I can get on with my life."

McGee smiled, too. "Me, too. I can't wait to see you again, Ziva. Until then, do me a favor?"

"Anything," she said.

He grinned. "Don't kill Tony."

Ziva laughed through her tears. "I will try. But I do not know that I can guarantee anything."

"Well, think of it this way," he said, playing along with their joke. "You come back without Tony and both Gibbs and Abby are going to kill you. And I know I'd hate to have that happen." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I hate getting used to new partners."

Ziva made a noise of disbelief. "You have just reminded me that I need some practice disemboweling a corpse, Tim."

McGee laughed. "Okay, okay, I get it." He let out a happy breath. "It's ridiculous how much I miss you, Ziva." Ziva smiled at the words. "I mean, Gibbs is such a stick in the mud . . ."

"Enough!" Ziva laughed. They allowed their laughter to subside, then she said, "Soon, Tim. I will be home soon."

"I'll be looking forward to it," McGee responded. There was a pause. He had so much more he wanted to say, but so much of it he wanted to tell her and then be able to take her in his arms. Never before had a few days seemed like an eternity. "I'll see you soon, Ziva. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, Tim," Ziva responded, adding in her head all the other things she couldn't wait to say once they were together again.

The dial tone sounded and she hung up the receiver . . .

. . . just as Tony picked his glass up off the bar.

He stared at the half inch of amber liquid for a moment, then downed it in one gulp. Placing the glass on the bar, he shook his head to distill the burning sensation the bourbon had caused.

Bourbon. He was definitely spending too much time around Gibbs.

The bartender walked over. "Another one?" he asked, wiping down the bar.

Tony shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine."

The bartender nodded and returned to the other end of the bar, serving two Israeli businessmen.

Tony let out a sigh as his thoughts returned to Ziva. He really shouldn't be so upset – she was a grown woman and could make her own choices – and he probably wouldn't have been nearly as hurt had it been anyone else, but . . . it was McGee! He would be forced to watch them be together everyday, constantly reminded of the feelings he had for her.

Okay, so he as much as told her it would never work between them. Still, it didn't mean he didn't care about her.

He shouldn't be so upset. McGee was a good guy. Hell, McGee was a _great_ guy. He would never do anything to hurt Ziva.

Unlike him.

He had hurt Ziva to keep her from being hurt. How messed up was that? And when he had screwed up, McGee had just slipped right in there and been there for her.

Tony stared down at the bar between his fingers. It was all so dumb. Him and his trust issues had cost him one of the most incredible women he'd ever met.

Yes, she'd asked him to come to Israel with her, to join her in putting her final family member to rest, to be there as she solidified her separation from her country of birth and made America her permanent home. But she'd only done it to see if she could be away from McGee.

And it turned out she couldn't.

He figured she wanted to talk to McGee, could read it on her face and in her body language the entire way back to the hotel. That's why he had come down here, so she would have a few minutes to make that phone call. If anything, you couldn't say Tony was a selfish person. He could tell what she needed and right then, it was not to be around him.

Tony suddenly felt a presence behind him and turned slowly. Ziva stood there, her hands clasped loosely in front of her, a calm look in her eyes.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Hey," he attempted. "Thirsty?"

She stepped closer to him. "Thank you, Tony."

He nodded, looking everywhere but at him. "Yeah, sure. I just figured, you know," he shrugged, "not everything is about me."

Ziva nodded, remembering their conversation from that morning. "You are a good friend," she told him.

Tony continued nodding. "Yep. That's me." He let out a sigh. "I'm sorry for the way I acted today. I was hurt and upset and felt betrayed." Ziva decided to remain silent for a moment and hear what else he had to say. "But I know it wasn't your intention – or McGee's – to make me feel like crap. That's just the way things go sometimes." Ziva smiled slightly at his words. "And I brought it on myself. If it weren't for my own issues, things might have worked between us." Ziva still stayed silent. She couldn't argue with him, because she knew everything he said was true. "You two will be good together. Hell, you're going to be treated like a _queen_. Probie worships the ground you walk on." Ziva laughed a little, rolling her eyes. Tony sighed. "I can settle for just being a good friend, Ziva. Less to worry about that way, anyway. I know I'd hate to be McGee when he forgets your anniversary." He made a face and Ziva rolled her eyes again. He let out a breath. "We good?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes. I think we are. Thank you again." She didn't make a move to do anything, so Tony held his arms open, giving her a look that said, 'Come on. You know you want to.' Ziva held back a smile as she allowed him to hug her, then said into his ear, "Though I _know_ McGee will not forget our anniversary."

Tony chuckled and rubbed her back as Ziva rested her head on his chest. He spoke. "Well, I suppose we should go get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Ziva nodded, removing herself from his arms. "Yes, but I think I will be just fine. You have my butt, do you not?"

Tony attempted to keep a straight face, but failed miserably, a loud laugh escaping his lips. Ziva gave him an odd look. "Sorry. It's just that you used the wrong word and . . ."

Ziva shook her head and walked away, toward the elevator. "I can do this . . . I will _not_ kill Tony . . ."

Tony noticed her departure and ran to catch up to her, slipping into the elevator right before the doors closed . . .

. . . and opened at NCIS, McGee rushing out and to his desk, apologizing the whole way.

"Sorry, Boss, I know I'm late, but Ziva called me this morning and you know I couldn't very well hang up on her; well, maybe you _don't_ know that, but I hope you understand why I had to talk to her." He took a breath and looked over to Gibbs' desk . . . which was empty. He sighed and plopped down in his desk chair.

"You done rambling yet, McGee?" Gibbs' voice nearly knocked McGee out of his chair again. Gibbs smirked and walked around the partition to stand in front of McGee's desk.

"Sorry, Boss," McGee started again, and took another breath before continuing. "I talked to Ziva this morning. And last night. She called me. That's why I was late today. Because she called me right as I was about to leave. I couldn't just hang up on her, so . . ."

Gibbs cut him off with a raised hand. "Breathe, McGee." McGee nodded. "Did she say anything important?"

McGee blushed. "Well, um, just that . . ."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and turned around, speaking over McGee's stuttered words. "Forget I asked." He sat down at his desk. "She say when they were coming back?"

"She said the funeral's tomorrow and they'd leave shortly after that," McGee said. "So I'd guess tomorrow night or Saturday morning they'd be back."

Gibbs swore silently to himself. "I told her she – well, they – could have two weeks."

McGee was silent for a moment, then spoke. "Does she still get that time off, Boss?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Of course, McGee. Her father died. I'm not that cold." McGee kept quiet, so Gibbs spoke up. "Why?"

McGee turned bashful again. "Well, um, I just thought . . ."

"You want to take next week off to be with her, don't you?" Gibbs asked softly.

Suddenly, McGee wasn't even embarrassed anymore. "I didn't even realize until I got to see her how much I had missed her. And then she was gone again and . . ." He looked at Gibbs. "I don't want to waste anymore time, you know?" He sighed. "I know you're probably not happy about us breaking one of your rules, but Ziva means a lot to me . . ."

"I know she does, Tim," Gibbs said softly. He made his way to McGee's desk. "And you want to know something else? I created that rule because I got my heart broken by someone I worked with." McGee knew he was referring to Jen; he didn't need to say it aloud. "But I know I don't have to worry about that with you and Ziva. You've got a good head on your shoulders, Tim. Ziva needs someone like you."

McGee beamed at the compliment. "Thanks, Boss."

Gibbs straightened. "Okay, let's get back to work. And McGee?"

McGee looked at him with wide eyes. "Yes, Boss?"

"Do us all a favor and use protection. The last thing we need around here is a pregnant assassin."

McGee turned almost magenta, he blushed so hard. "Yes, Boss. I'll keep that in mind.

Gibbs turned around, grinning. Oh, yeah. Things were going to be just fine.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Ziva opened her eyes. As the décor of her hotel room swam into view, she sighed. She was hoping she could just wake up and have the past few days have been a dream. Suddenly she understood the inspiration behind soap operas.

The only thing that got her out of bed was the thought that tonight, they would hop on a plane and fly back to America and before she knew it, she would be in McGee's arms, safe and sound. She smiled and climbed out of bed.

"Well, that's a good way to start the day." Tony came into view in the bathroom doorway. "Just don't do too much of that today; people might get suspicious."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I am simply happy to be going home soon."

"Oh, yeah, I'm overjoyed to be going back to work," Tony said dryly.

"Have you forgotten about the two weeks Gibbs gave us?" Ziva asked, smirking as realization flashed across Tony's face.

He chuckled. "That's _right_!" he crowed. "What do you say, up for some Bahamas? Little sun, little surf, little bikini . . ."

"Perhaps," Ziva teased, and at Tony's surprised look, added, "but I may ask for a replacement."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "You would make me go back to work so you could have a romp with McGee?"

Ziva shot him a glare. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Tony smiled genuinely. "No. None at all."

Ziva dipped her head, grateful to have such wonderful people in her life. It hadn't always been like this, where her co-workers, of all people, actually cared about her, and she cared for them. To actually have it was somewhat overwhelming, but definitely something she did not want to lose.

"How long's it take an assassin to get ready in the morning?" Tony pondered aloud, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. He grimaced, grunting out a, "Sorry."

Ziva huffed, then announced, "I am going to shower. If I attempt you trying to sneak a peep, I believe the saying is, you can forget about having children."

Tony continued to grimace. "Peek, not peep. And yeah, I got it."

"Good." Ziva nodded and gathered her clothes, heading to the bathroom.

Once she was in the shower, Tony quickly made his way to the phone on the nightstand. There was a call he needed to make, and he needed to make it before they headed back to the States.

He tapped his fingers impatiently as he waited for the other person to pick up. Finally, there was the click of a person answering, and a voice said, "McGee."

"Hey, Probie, how's it hanging?" Tony grinned, hoping the smile came through in his words.

"Tony." McGee sounded surprised. "I didn't expect to hear from you." He paused. "Something wrong?"

"No, no, of course not," Tony said. "I just wanted to, um, let you know . . ." He scratched the back of his head, searching for the right words.

"Spit it out, Tony," McGee said, annoyed.

"I'm okay with you and Ziva," Tony said quickly.

"What?" McGee asked softly. He honestly hadn't been expecting that.

Tony sighed. "I was acting like a jerk, McGee. Chalk it up to insecurity, I guess."

"Tony, you don't have to . . ."

"I do, McGee," Tony interrupted. "I upset Ziva. And I mean, yeah, it's Ziva. She's usually pissed off at me. But this time? McGee, I was supposed to be comforting her, and all I could do was think about myself." He paused. "Do you know why Ziva chose me to come here with her?" He didn't even wait for McGee to answer. "She wanted to see if she could be away from you, Probie. And you know what? She can't." He was silent for a moment, so McGee took that as his cue to speak.

"Tony . . . I don't know . . ."

"You don't have to say anything, McGee," Tony said. "Just . . . I hope you'll forgive me." McGee didn't say anything at first, but then started to laugh. Tony frowned. "What? You think the idea of me asking forgiveness is funny?"

"Well . . . yeah," McGee said, still chuckling.

Tony's face fell. "Okay. I see how it is. I'll see you when we get back." He started to hang up, but McGee's voice prevented him from doing so.

"Tony!" McGee was saying just as Tony put the phone up to his ear again. "Would you listen to yourself? You're being ridiculous!"

"Okay, McGee, you don't have to rub it in," Tony mumbled.

"No, Tony," McGee said softly. "You're not listening. Of _course_ I forgive you. I thought I would have to be the one asking you for forgiveness." He sighed. "I wish things didn't have to be so . . ."

"Complicated?" Tony supplied. "Yeah, tell me about it." He heard the shower stop and realized he needed to get off the phone before Ziva came out of the bathroom. "Well, now that that's settled, I have to finish getting ready."

"Oh, that's right," McGee said. "The funeral is today."

"Yeah, it is," Tony said, staring at the bathroom door.

"So, what kind of funeral is it, anyway?" McGee asked, unaware of Tony's urgency to end the call.

"You know, I'm not quite sure, Probie," Tony said quickly. "How 'bout I tell you about it when we get back?"

"Okay, sure . . ." McGee agreed dubiously.

"Great!" Tony broke in. "Well, gotta go." He hung up, McGee calling his name as he did so, and relaxed.

The bathroom door opened and Ziva exited, drying her hair with a towel. She noticed Tony's position near the phone and grew suspicious. "Tony?"

He popped to attention. "Yeah. Oh. Are you ready? No. You have to put your clothes on yet. I'm assuming this isn't some weird funeral where everyone wears bathrobes, because I am way overdressed for that."

Ziva stared at him. "Tony." He didn't say anything, just looked at her. "You are starting to sound like Abby."

Tony attempted a smile. "Heh. Well, they say the longer you work with someone . . ."

"What is going on?" Ziva's question was blunt.

Tony feigned ignorance. "What do you mean? There's nothing . . ."

She stalked closer to him. "I walk out here and suddenly you are acting as if you must walk on egg yolks around me."

Tony frowned at her slip-up, but said, "I wasn't . . ."

"Whom were you speaking with on the phone?"

Tony chuckled. "What makes you think I was on the phone?"

She glared at him. "I can always dial star 69."

"They have that in Israel?" Tony asked, genuinely surprised. "Wow."

"Who, Tony!" Ziva exclaimed, getting more and more frustrated by the moment.

"Alright, you got me," Tony gave in. "I was talking to a florist, ordering a nice arrangement for the funeral . . ." He shrugged, trying to look sincere.

Ziva softened, then thought about his claim for a moment and asked, "And how did you find the phone number of a florist in Tel Aviv?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "The phone book?"

She continued to stare at him. "There is no phone book in here."

"There isn't?" Tony asked. "Huh."

"_Who_, Tony." This time it was said quieter, more deadly in nature.

He sighed. "Like you don't know."

Her expression changed to surprise. "Tim?"

"Yeah, I called McGee," Tony said. "Happy now?"

Ziva was quiet for a moment, then said, "Why?"

Tony snorted. "Why else? I had to make sure he knew I wasn't pissed off at you guys." He paused, then continued emphatically. "McGee's, like, my best friend, Ziva! I wasn't about to let something like you two hooking up ruin that."

Ziva nodded. "Thank you," she said. "But you do know this is more than 'hooking up'?"

"Yeah, of course," Tony replied. "I don't think either one of you would risk pissing Gibbs off for a one-night stand."

Ziva smirked. "Depends on how good he is in bed."

Tony grimaced. "I really . . . don't . . . need to think about that, Ziva." There was a brief silence, then he continued. "You should probably get dressed."

Ziva looked down at her still robe-clad body. "Oh. Yes. Right."

As she headed back to the bathroom, Tony called out, "Unless it is some weird tradition to wear robes to funerals."

She slammed the door. Tony smirked.

Back in Silver Spring, McGee was climbing into bed, a smile on his face. Jethro came padding into the bedroom, walking over to McGee for a scratch behind the ears before contently making his way to the dog bed at the end of McGee's bed and laying down.

"That's right, Jethro," McGee said. "Ziva's coming back in no time at all. And you are going to be seeing a lot more of her. Though just between you and me, I might have to kick you out if she spends the night here." Jethro gave a plaintive whine. "It's for your own good, boy. There are some things that happen in a man's bedroom that his dog doesn't need to know." Jethro chuffed lightly in response. McGee laughed. "Good night, Jethro." He rolled over. "And good luck, Ziva. I hope you find peace with your father and come back to me safely."

He turned out the light . . .

. . . at the same time Tony turned off their rental car's ignition. They were outside a temple, one Ziva was very familiar with.

"I used to come here at least once a week for worship," she confessed.

Tony nodded. "Your father make you?"

She shook her head. "No. He was not a religious man." She paused, letting her memories invade her senses. "It was more of a way to affirm what I was doing was just. My faith was the only constant in my life. It is why I wear this." She fingered the Star of David pendant around her neck.

Tony nodded, knowing all too well those feelings to which she referred. Ziva was a much more schooled person than he, though, and he thought how appropriate it was that she would have the discipline to attend a place of worship at night when she spent her days spying and assassinating, among other questionable activities. Still, there was a question that begged an answer. "But if your father wasn't religious, why have his funeral at a temple?"

Ziva gave him a wan smile. "So that his soul might encounter the same truths mine has."

Tony smiled. "That's beautiful, Ziva. Come on." He rested his hand on her shoulder, giving her the signal that it was time to go inside.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Major fluff ahead!_

**Chapter Eight**

Several hours later, Ziva's father had finally been laid to rest, and Ziva herself felt a comfortable sense of calm about everything. She had made it though the week and had lifted two gigantic weights from her shoulders. Life felt considerably lighter now.

She and Tony had hurried back to the hotel per her request; she just wanted to get back to the States, back to a place where she felt safe and happy.

Tony placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as their plane ascended, leaving the twinkling lights of Tel Aviv behind.

They were going home.

. . .

A few hours later, Ziva found herself opening her eyes to the booming voice of the captain announcing their arrival in DC. She blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up in her seat, glancing over at Tony. He, too, appeared to have just woke.

"Looks like we're finally here," Tony said with a yawn.

Ziva's eyes were now wide awake, twinkling with life, excited by the notion of seeing everyone again. "Yes, we are," she said.

Inside the terminal, Gibbs, Abby and, of course, McGee were eagerly awaiting Tony and Ziva's arrival. Ziva had called McGee to let him know they were coming back and he had called Gibbs. When Abby found out, she insisted on coming along, mostly so she could pounce on Tony the minute she saw him.

The plane touched down and Ziva squirmed in her seat, eager to get off the plane and back to her life. As soon as the captain announced it was okay to stand, Ziva was on her feet, retrieving her carry-on from the overhead compartment.

They were shortly off the plane, and Ziva had to hold herself back from running to the terminal. She didn't want to appear too eager. But as the familiar faces of the team came into view, she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

Abby was the first to greet them, in typical Abby style. She ran at them, arms extended, squealing, "I missed you guys!" before squeezing them both in a hug.

Tony noticed Ziva trying to wiggle her way out of the embrace and said, "'Kay, Abbs. Hug me all you want, but I think there's somewhere else Ziva would rather be."

"Oh, right," Abby said, dropping her right arm and letting Ziva escape, then turning her full attention back to Tony.

Ziva met McGee's eyes, smiling. They walked toward each other, both feeling suddenly bashful.

McGee reached a tentative hand out to brush Ziva's hair back from her face. "Ziva," he said.

That was all it took to break the spell. Ziva threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. It felt so _good_ to be back, to be back and smelling McGee's cologne. She smiled at the thought.

"I missed you." McGee's words brushed against her skin.

She closed her eyes and held tighter to him. "I missed you more," she insisted. "I was alone with _Tony_ for almost a week."

McGee chuckled and squeezed her as Tony and Abby watched, grins on their faces. Gibbs spoke softly to them.

"Let's give them some space," he said, trying to keep his own smile off his face.

"I don't think they even realize we're here, Boss," Tony said in a stage whisper.

Gibbs reached up and gave him a slap to the head, but nodded to himself as he walked away, Tony and Abby trailing behind him.

Ziva pulled away from McGee, looking up into his face. She placed her hands on his cheeks, just looking at him. The expression on his face was one of pure happiness, and echoed the look on her own face.

She could read in his eyes that he wanted to kiss her, but was still nervous about it. She smiled and took matters into her own hands, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. As they kissed, she slipped her arms back around his neck, letting herself fall into the sensation of the kiss, the endlessness of the moment.

She was happy, she was safe, she was in the arms of someone she loved.

As the throngs of tourists passed around them, Ziva had only one thought:

_I am home._

* * *

"So what made you decide on the Bahamas?"

Ziva leaned back into McGee's arms, sipping a daiquiri, listening to the waves of the ocean crash on the shore, feeling the heat of the sun on her skin. She smirked. "It was actually Tony's idea."

McGee raised an eyebrow. "Tony suggested we go to the Bahamas?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Ziva drawled. "He suggested _I_ go to the Bahamas . . . with him."

McGee narrowed his eyes. "What."

Ziva turned in his arms, patting his chest reassuringly. "Relax. I told him I would only go with you."

McGee let out a breath. "Thank God."

Ziva turned back around, satisfied. "The bikini was also his idea."

McGee let his gaze wander appreciatively over Ziva's body. "I may have to thank him when we get back after all," he mumbled as Ziva smirked.

She sighed and rested her head against his chest. "I am very lucky to have you, Tim."

McGee scoffed. "I'm the lucky one, Ziva. Not everyone can claim their girlfriend is an assassin."

She laughed. "No, I suppose not." She paused. "There is so much I want to say to you."

"Me too, Ziva," he murmured into her hair.

"The most important of which I believe you already know," she continued softly, as though he hadn't even spoken.

McGee nodded to himself. "Yeah, I do. I love you, too, Ziva."

She turned in his arms again, this time allowing him to press a gentle kiss to her mouth. As soon as the kiss began, it ended again, and they sat in silence, watching the sun set over the ocean, knowing that although life was far from perfect or easy, sometimes good things came out of bad situations, and they were living proof of that. Their lives were just beginning.

**THE END!**

_Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks for all the reviews!_


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